One Day
by whoslonelyroadistheanswer
Summary: Set in the 1920's, the Stonems are a family of gangsters. This is just one day in Effy's life.
1. Chapter 1

One Day

Chapter one- James Cook

This story is not, for example, about a circus. Nor is this story about a laundry mat, a tattoo parlor, a sergeant, or a kidnapping. This story is also not about a world disaster like the zombie apocalypse or the Hunger Games. However, what this story and all the other stories just mentioned are about is love. This particular story it takes place in New York City. The year is 1924.

Athena Stonem had just woken up at 8 O'clock and had spent the last hour looking for her darling daughter, Effy. The Stonem's lived in Manhattan, in a lavish building owned by the family themselves. Since the Stonem building was twenty floors high it had taken Mrs. Stonem a while to get from her room, which was on the top floor, to Katie Fitch's room, which was on the thirteenth floor. Mrs. Stonem, being the protective mother she was, had to of course, personally knock on every room in between. Now, Mrs. Stonem stood outside Katie's room. She rapped on the door like all the other doors before it. It didn't surprise Mrs. Stonem that there was no answer. Mrs. Stonem turned the door handle. It also didn't surprise Mrs. Stonem that the door was locked. There was a key ring that made its home on Mrs. Stonem's wrist. She took the key ring into her hands, found the key the belonged to Katie's door, stuck it into the key hole, and turned the lock as well as the door open.

Once in Katie's room Mrs. Stonem flicked the switch on. Mrs. Stonem did not care about the girl's beauty rest. This was a mother searching for her daughter- Mrs. Stonem was determined. She immediately went to the bed which was in the center of the room. She then grabbed the purple bed covers and whipped them off onto the floor. The bed reveled two naked girls; One of them belonging Katie Fitch, the other belonging Effy Stonem. Alas, Mrs. Stonem had found her daughter. She went over to the side that Katie was sleeping on. Mrs. Stonem bent down to where the girl's ear was, and yelled.

"Oy!" Katie shouted. Without knowing that it was her boss who was yelling in her ear she slapped Mrs. Stonem across the face.

"Good Morning to you Miss Fitch," Mrs. Stonem calmly said. She stood up and walked to the other side of the girl's bed. "I don't recommend you doing that again." Mrs. Stonem put a hand to her cheek which was now reddening.

Katie was about to retaliate in her signature fierce manor but one glance to her boss told her otherwise.

"Effy," Mrs. Stonem whispered sweetly. "Effy, darling, I have been searching for you for an hour. You have work in thirty minutes."

Effy crawled away from the sound of her mother's voice. She moved towards the Fitch girl.

"Katie, you also have work as well. It is Monday which means Mr. Browne is coming in," Mrs. Stonem said to Katie.

Katie leaped out of bed. If Effy had work in a half hour then Katie would have to get a move on. She ran to the bathroom turning the water on for the tub. She would have to be extra clean since it was Mr. Browne. He was a huge client of the Stonem's. However, Katie wasn't worried about losing Mr. Browne, but dogs that would come after if that happened.

Effy was now alone in Katie's bed. She was left to face the wrath of her mother. Before she could even open her eyes Mrs. Stonem threw something on the bed. It was the dress Effy wore last night. Mrs. Stonem proceeded around the room throwing stockings, garters, a garter belt, a slip, a pair of knickers, and a brassiere that she found. Effy's eyes were now open. She realized that her mother had not finished throwing things towards the bed. The shoes were next. Effy leaped off the bed right as the first shoe comes flying by. The second shoe came a moment later. The door slammed shut as Mrs. Stonem left the room. Effy collected her clothes off the bed. She put her dress on before departing the room as well. Effy made a mental note to not lose her clothes as often.

Effy's room was located on the top floor. She dreaded using the elevator since it was a bit claustrophobic. Instead, she opted for the marble staircase that was right next to the elevators. Hardly anyone took the stairs anymore. Effy made it to her room, a bit out of breathe from going up seven flights. She stripped of her dress, dropping the clothes that were in her arms along with it. She ran to the bathroom to get ready for her day.

There was a knock on Effy's door a moment later. Effy ignored it since she knew it was Pandora Moon coming in with the breakfast tray. Effy heard the door turn, the sound of feet in her room, and a tray colliding with a table. Pandora walked over to the bathroom where Effy was now submerged in the tub.

"Hey Eff!" Pandora greeted in her usual voice that was loud and smothered with optimism.

"Morning Panda," Effy replied with her signature smirk. She sat in the tub with her knees up to her chest, her arms hugging her legs. "What's for breakfast?"

Pandora put on her biggest smile. "Let me get it for ya." It took Pandora a second to get the tray from the other room and bring it back to where Effy was. "We have our horribly boring oat meal with its horribly boring partner, coffee. As for the daily fruit- Tony came back from his trip to California this morning bringing back ten pineapples giving all of them to the kitchen!" Sitting between the oat meal and coffee was a plate with five thinly sliced strips of pineapple. Effy snatched the plate with the pineapple, making haste to consume the delicious fruit.

"My agenda please?" Effy asked in between bites of her food.

Pandora found the slip of paper on the tray. She picked it up and read it out loud, "9:30-Cook- Palm Reading. 10:00- Tomone- Crystal Gazing. 11:00- Campbell- Tarot Cards. 12:00- McClair- Palm Reading. 12:30- Break. 1:00- Fitch- Everything. 3:00-Jones- Crystal Gazing. By the way Eff, mind keeping me company in the kitchens during your break?"

"Umm . . ." Effy started. Effy's mind was occupied with the one O'clock appointment with 'Fitch'. Effy knew that Katie did not have the time nor the patience with physic readings. Katie did tell Effy the other night that her sister was coming into the city for a couple days to stay. Maybe the Fitch on the appointment sheet was Katie's sister. Effy broke out of her thought wonderings, finally answering Pandora with, "When do I not visit you in the kitchens?"

"Good point Eff. Anyways, good luck with Katie this afternoon. I thought she didn't believe in your physic reading crap."

Effy shrugged. "I think her sister, Emily . . . I think that's her name, booked the appointment. Trust me, if Katie made an appointment we would not be gazing into crystal balls and talking about tea leaves . . . Panda, I've got to get ready, you mind?" Effy dismissed her friend Panda.

Effy soaked in the tub for a couple minutes more. She finished a bit more breakfast- staying clear of the oatmeal. She wrapped a towel around herself as she stepped out of the tub. She walked towards her closet. Effy's closet was split into two sections. The right side had all of Effy's normal day clothes. There were dresses with a dropped waist that flared out in sun pleats. There were also dresses that were made completely of embellishments. She had a couple of shirts that she stole from her brother. To the left side of the closet, was home to all of Effy's work clothes. They consisted of a blouse and a skirt. These skirts hung on the natural waistline unlike the skirts that were on the right side of the closet. Effy's work clothes defiantly had an air of sophistication, but with an older look.

These clothes were Effy's mother's before the Stonems lived in America. The Stonems had the same lavish lifestyle here as they did in Bristol. What made the Stonems leave their life across the pond was their sentence of deportation. The Bristol police got scent of the multimillion dollar drug and alcohol exports that the Stonems called a family business. It was either jail or America. Mr. Stonem chose the latter, picked up his family, and left without a trace. The Stonems have lived in America for the last fifteen years. Mr. Stonem used his American gangster connections to rebuild his establishment. With a bit more discretion this time, the multimillion dollar drug and alcohol business came back. This time it came with prostitutes and casinos as decoration.

Effy slipped on a pair of knickers, put on her garter belt, rolled her stockings up, attached the garters with the stockings, put on her brassiere, slide on a slip, buttoned up her shirt, and tucked it into her long skirt. Effy peered into the mirror as she put on a pair of shoes with a slight heel to them. Effy rolled her sleeves up a bit, finally prepared for the day.

Effy took the elevator this time. She pressed the down button and waited for her nerves to get the best of her. The doors opened. Effy pressed floor thirteen. The doors closed, only to reopen on every floor going down. Prostitutes, sex addicts, drug dealers, drug addicts, alcoholics, and gamblers roamed the floors of the Stonem building. Effy saw Katie with Mr. Browne when she stepped out of the elevator. Cassie Answorth was at the front desk to greet Effy. The Stonem girl nodded back. She turned left to the end of the hall, finding her physic office.

The door opened before Effy touched the knob. She was greeted by the sight of James Cook.

"Cookie?" Effy said. She was a bit annoyed that James had decided to make his second home her office.

"Hey Effs, we have an appointment and your late," James replied with his usual smug smile.

"Yea well, late night." Effy stepped into her office. It was draped with curtains along all four walls. It was to give the allusion of another place. There were rugs layered, overlapping the floors. Effy's desk stood in the center of the room. Effy sat down in her chair. James followed suit, taking the chair on the other side of the desk, across from Effy.

"Katie?"

"What's it to you?" Effy said defensively. She moved the crystal ball, tarot cards, and tea leaves away from the middle of her desk.

James rolled up his sleeve. He placed his right hand out onto the table. James was a regular to Effy's physic talents. He came into Effy's office once a week to get his life sorted. This is not to say that he only came into the Stonem building once a week. On the contrary, James came to the Stonem building every day, multiple times a day. He was part of the family business. He worked for Effy's brother, Tony, who operated the shipping part of alcohol. James met the Stonems, starting with Tony, one night on a run. At this point in time, James was a bootlegger. Instead of sending out product, he was collecting product. He was working for Miller and Company, bootlegging. Tony was working for his family business. On the border of Canada, the Miller and Company was on the receiving end to get alcohol. Tony, who knew about this operation and wanted to get rid of Miller, interrupted the trade. Tony killed most of the Miller bootleggers. He took the Canadian alcohol and a few Miller hostages. One of the hostages happened to be James. This happened several years ago. The fact that James was a hostage and was used for ransom to the Miller's was long forgotten. Tony and James were close ever since.

James became particularly fond of Effy. He spent most of his time when he wasn't bootlegging, on the prostitute floors (13-17). Effy's office was on a prostitute floor because it was the only available room left. James had been seeing Effy for his palm readings for the last two years. He wanted to sort out his life. Effy was his guidance.

Effy didn't actually know the future. She didn't have physic abilities or anything. That didn't mean that James had to know that. All Effy had was woman's intuition. Oh, and drugs, a lot of drugs. This made for some interesting readings.

With Effy's hand holding James' wrist, she moved his palm closer. She wasn't looking at James' palm lines yet. No, she was smelling the scent of James' palm. You could tell a lot by the way someone's hand smells. Effy had to do this carefully, not letting James know what she was actually doing. James' hand smelt a bit bitter, tangy, salty. There was the smell of fish- but that wasn't it. It smelt a bit like roses as well.

"So what was the girl's name?" Effy asked after putting a face to the scent.

"It doesn't take a fortune teller to know that I've been with a girl," James joked.

"I'm talking about the girl you finger-painted this morning."

James flinched. He took back his hand. " Damn it Eff. How do you know this? Last week you knew that I had just beaten someone. Now you know I how I slept with someone. Do I ever get a break?"

Effy remembered last week. Cook had come in for his palm reading. She had leaned down to smell his palm. She smelt something salty and metallic. She thought it was blood and confirmed it once she saw that there was red under James' finger nail.

"Her is Sketch. Bit of a tosser really, but Anwar wanted to get rid of her so Cookie found her this morning and that was that," James explained to Effy.

Effy nodded. Anwar had come to Effy a couple months ago about his relationship with Sketch. He also had a palm reading. The thing was, the whole time he was holding out his hand he babbled on and on about his deep dislike of Sketch. Sure the sex was good and that was all that Sketch was good at. Anwar had described Sketch as clingy, secretive, and a creep. Anwar asked Effy the best way to breakup with Sket. Effy just told him to stay close to James. Anwar and James were good friends after all. If Anwar ignored Sketch long enough Effy knew that Sketch would go looking for attention. James was more than obligating to give Sketch that attention. The smell that reeked off of James' hand was more than enough evidence.

James' hand was once again colliding with Effy's. Effy trailed her pinky across one of his lines. "Last week I said you were in a spot of trouble and that you should tell my brother about your killing. You did that I see." Effy pointed to a spot on the line. Last week after the session, Effy went to Tony to confirm that James did tell him about the person he beat up. "You told Tony this. In fact the person you killed was part of a huge smuggling company. That company has now been destroyed. Our empire has now grown in its place. But now I see that someone, maybe Sketch? Is going to ruin your personal life." Effy knew about Sketch. She not only knew about the girl from Anwar, but also Maxxie. History had a tendency to repeat itself. Sketch was obsessive and compulsive and a bit too sketchy for Effy's liking. "Don't trust Sketch."

"Sketch is no one Eff," James sighed.

"She may be no one, but you have a tendency to mouth diarrhea. You can't tell her anything. She will ruin you."

"Okay Eff, whatever you say."

Effy looked up and glared at James. Effy had mostly been right about James' life. Everything from the blood that James carried to the girls he's been with. Effy knew James, if he was saying whatever, he really meant whatever.

"James Cook," Effy said sternly.

"Okay! Okay. Don't trust Sketch. I won't tell her anything," James promised.

"Alright," Effy said. She ran her finger down another line on James' hand. She watched James watching her. The trick about telling a person's fortune is that you always have to watch their eyes watching you. So as Effy was pointing to lines on James' hand, she was really looking at James looking at her pointed finger. Effy realized that there was a bit of fear in James' eyes.

"You're scared," Effy said. "You did something while Tony was away and now that he's back your scared of what Tony will find." This was a complete guess on Effy's part; it was made up on the fact that James does stupid things while Tony's away, Tony has been away for the last four days, and that James is really bad a lies. Pandora also said something about James being in trouble yesterday at the kitchen.

James nodded his head in defeat. "We were shipping to Pittsburg, you know, it was our biggest shipment this month. There were over one thousand cases. Tony wasn't here so it was me leading the shipment. Anyways, as we were moving cases the police showed up. It wasn't _our_ police you know. It was _their_ police. So we left the cases and got our asses back over here."

Effy heard this story from Pandora. This isn't the first time that the Stonem's had lost a huge shipment. Chris Miles had led and lost a shipment a couple months ago. He died. Not because the police chased after him with a gun. No, Chris came back to the Stonem building, the second he stepped in, Tony shot him. Tony had no tolerance to people who were inadequate. He trusted Chris to get the job done. But Chris failed so Tony had to kill him. It was only a matter of time before Tony realized that James had failed him as well. James Cook was going to die today.

"You know James," Effy began. She opened one of the drawers in her desk. She found her knife. She took the knife and traced it down James' life line. She tightened her grip on James' wrist. "Every day we are at cross roads," Effy continued. She stopped her knife, pointing to one of the many intersecting lines of the life line. "We make choices that can shorten our life." She trails her knife down a tangent of the life line following the intersecting road. "It only means that we have to learn," Effy changed direction, retracing the knife back to the original line, "and stay on the main road." Effy traced his life line down to the very end. "Sometimes we meet the inevitable. What do we do James?" Effy then dug into James' palm. "Sometimes, we have to sell a bit of our souls to live." Effy extended James' life line. "The question is: is it really living?" Effy withdrew her knife. She let go of James' wrist. Effy found her handkerchief in the same drawer as the knife. She cleaned up the blood on the blade. "Leave now." With those words, James bolted out of the room. Effy tossed the handkerchief on the floor. She prepared for her next client. She hid her knife back in the drawer.

**Reviews would be lovely as well as helpful**


	2. Chapter 2

One Day

Chapter Two- Thomas

Not many people knew that Pandora led a double life. She had the life in the Stonem building, being their chief. She cooked and made recipes and delivered her food to the prostitutes. She was the Stonem's assistant head chief working for them for ten years. Pandora's other life took place at twelve O'clock on the second weekend of every month. On those weekends Pandora would pack her bag two hours before filling it with costumes, makeup, extra stockings, shoes, hair spray, a mini sewing kit, cigarettes, vodka, and clear nail polish. She would leave the Stonem building, taking the escape exit off the kitchen, down 10 floors of ladder, and book it down the street to the train station. She knew the man who worked at the station so she would always get a free ride on those particular nights. She would always sit in the back row of the first carriage. She was, after all, a woman walking about at night. The train would take her to Harlem. She only had to walk seven blocks from the station to the little night club in which she danced and sang for. Not many people knew that Pandora worked at a club.

One night, about a year ago, Pandora was finishing up dance. She had fifteen minutes until the club would close for the night. It was then, when Pandora looked up, that she saw a man walk in disheveled and a bit lost. Pandora made a promise to herself in that second. She would talk to the man, figure out who he was, sleep with him, and then fall in love. He would no longer be lost., perhaps disheveled, but not alone. Fifteen minutes later, Pandora picked up the man, brought him back to her room at the club, got changed, and somehow managed to walk around all of Harlem and Manhattan with him in arm. At six in the morning, Pandora said goodbye to the man in front of the Stonem building. He left, getting lost on his way back to Harlem. She merrily climbed up ten escape ladders with her bag and a note from the man in hand.

_One am- at the Blue's Club- five blocks to the right of where your club was. Password: J'adore. –Thomas T._

So it was, the next night Pandora went to the Blue's Club, met Thomas, and never left him.

Tonight though, Pandora only had her coin purse. She went to the kitchen window, closed it, and climbed down the ladder to the street. Then she made her way to the train.

Pandora, being a young lady of the night, made a point to always check her surroundings for anyone who looked threatening. In the front of the cart sat a very sleepy man with his two sleeping children. The younger of the two children was a boy. He was nestled in his father's arms, quite sound. The other child was a girl. She sat leaning up against her father. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. The father was having a struggle staying awake. Pandora noticed his eyes drooping down into submission. He had this habit of drumming his fingers against his other arm. The drumming would slow as his eyes would close; it was only then when he would remember that he wasn't allowed to sleep. There was this other man sitting with his back turned to Pandora. He had on a news boys cap. As if he could tell someone was staring at him, the man turned around to glare at Pandora. Pandora looked away. Turning her head around she saw another lady of the night. Pandora smiled at the woman. The woman smiled back. Pandora decided to sit with her new found friend. She took her coin purse and moved to the back.

When Pandora sat down next to the woman, she noticed just how blue her eyes were. They were a dark Mediterranean blue around the edges of the iris. Around the pupil was a lighter shade of blue. Pandora kicked herself as a reminder to stop staring. Pandora couldn't help it because as soon as she looked away, her eyes went back to staring at the woman's eyes.

"I'm Naomi," the woman introduced. She lifted her eye brow wondering when she could reclaim her eyes.

Pandora noticed that the Naomi woman had a slight British accent. "Pandora," Pandora replied. She stopped gazing at the other woman. She pointedly made herself look at her hands.

"Nice to meet you," Naomi said. She took her hand out to shake with Pandora. Pandora obliged. Pandora noticed a gold ring on Naomi's hand- not the right hand that Naomi pulled out, but on the left hand.

"You as well." Pandora really doesn't do discretion when she really wants answers to something. She was still infatuated with the ring on Naomi's middle finger.

"Married," Naomi explained. "Well, not in the typical sense since we can't get married . . . symbolic really . . . we're soul mates you see."

"I'm sorry, what?" Pandora said, confused.

"You've been staring at my ring right? I'm Jewish so my wedding ring goes on the middle finger of my left hand. However, I'm not exactly married . . . so this all a bit symbolic for us." Naomi lifted her left hand up, admiring the gold ring.

"Oh . . . thanks for telling me that," Pandora said. "How long have you two been together?" Pandora twisted around her hands. Thomas and her had talked about getting married. The problem was, they only talked about it.

"We were friends for about a year, then we got together, and now we're 'married'. It's been six years total. Do you have a sweetheart? Never mind don't answer that. I know you have one. No lady travels alone at dark just to look at the bloody stars. You have a sweetheart, what's the name?"

Pandora smiled. She was beginning to like this Naomi character. "His name is Thomas. We've been together a year now."

"Marriage?"

"I don't know."

Naomi leaned closer to Pandora. She whispered, "Is he black?"

Pandora sighed, "Yes."

"Bit of a rebel then aren't you?" Naomi laughed.

"Yes, I guess I am. Is yours black? Is that why you can't marry him?" Pandora asked.

"Trust me, race is the least of my worries. Can you keep a secret?" Naomi waited for Pandora's nod. "My sweetheart's a girl."

Pandora gasped. A girl? Pandora had only heard of this stuff from the men going to floor thirteen. She never actually thought that any of it was true.

"Good luck getting married," Pandora responded.

"Yea, you too."

The two women smiled in agony about their unfortunate situations. The two women both loved who they loved. It couldn't be helped that there were laws forbidding it. No one exactly falls in love with who they're supposed to.

"So I'm part of this movement. It's called the birth control movement. It's so woman can have control over their body and decide when they want to have children. I know that we have abstinence but that is just a load of bullshit. Woman want sex just as much as men do and we deserve the same rights to wet out dick like they do . . . I'm sorry that was a bit of a ramble wasn't it?" Naomi muttered. She opened her bag and pulled out the latest issue of _The Birth Control Review_. "So I'm working with this woman . . ." Naomi pointed to the name on the cover of the magazine, "Margret Sanger. Currently she's in China doing a tour there and working with Pearl Buck to establish a clinic in Shanghai. Anyways, she left me to lead the movement here in America while she's gone." Naomi handed Pandora the magazine. "Take one."

Pandora gazed at the magazine. She flipped through the pages. She had never seen anything like this. "Do you think I could have a couple more? I work in a place where there are lots of prostitutes."

Naomi dug through her bag. "Sure, here. I have this magazine and a couple pamphlets. Do you want the pamphlets as well?" Naomi pulled out more issues of _The Birth Control Review_ giving them to Pandora. She then felt around her bag for the pamphlets. The title read, _Family Limitation_. Pandora took those too.

"Thank you, the ladies will surely appreciate it," Pandora replied. She shoved the papers in her bag.

"No problem. Listen, tomorrow . . . or should I say, today? In the afternoon I'm giving a speech do you and your . . . coworkers want to come?"

Pandora's eyes lighted up. "I would love to! What time is it? Where is it?"

Naomi laughed amazed that this woman was so interested. "I'm holding it at the intersection of Mott and Bleaker Street. The roads will be blocked off for cars. It's starts at four O'clock."

Pandora thought for a moment. She could make it down to from Manhattan to lower Manhattan in a half hours train ride. She could skip work for two hours or so. "Sure, I'll be there," Pandora finally said.

The train stopped at Harlem. It surprised Pandora that Naomi rose from her seat as well. The two of them walked off the train together. They walked several blocks in silence before Naomi broke it.

"Are you following me or something?" Naomi asked curiously.

Pandora smiled at the bluntness of her voice. "Nah, wouldn't want to be seen in the same pansy places as you," Pandora retorted jokingly.

Naomi shot her a look. "I have you know I have gangster connections."

"No, it's more like you have a stack of pamphlets that are going to paper cut me to death." Pandora watched the blue eyed girl laugh. "Besides, I'm the one who has prostitutes as coworkers, I should be the one with gangster connections." Out of the two of them, Pandora was the one to have gangster connections. Effy's whole family were gangsters.

"What do you do exactly?" Naomi asked. "Are you a prostitute? I shouldn't really ask since you probably won't tell me." Naomi slowed her walk. She turned to face Pandora.

Pandora's walk slowed to match Naomi's. "I'm not a prostitute. I'm a chef. I really can't tell you where I work. I hope that you can suffice with that."

"No, Pandora, I'm really sorry. I really shouldn't have asked. I'm just too curious. My girlfriend always says that I ask too many questions and that I never 'shut the hell up'."

The two women continued to walk a couple more blocks together. It was then as they began to drift off that Pandora stopped. She watched as Naomi's figure became smaller and smaller.

"Wait!" Pandora shouted. She ran over to Naomi. She felt the night air bite her face as she ran against it. "Naomi." Naomi caught Pandora into an embrace. "Thank you for chatting with me. Be safe yea?"

Naomi for some odd reason felt that Pandora really meant what she said. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Pandora told her about her black boyfriend. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Naomi told her about her girlfriend. Maybe it's because you don't see many woman, out late into the night, cracking jokes about gangsters and pamphlets. Whatever it was, Naomi trusted Pandora. Pandora obviously trusted Naomi. "You too," Naomi promised. Naomi hugged Pandora back. The two of them then drifted away like two ships in an ocean, passing.

Pandora only had to walk three more blocks until she reached the Blue's Club. The bouncer was out, he recognized Pandora. She made her way inside noticing that the club was rather empty. The grandfather clock which was in the back of the room read 1:24. To the front of the room sat a lowly Jazz performer on Saxophone. He was playing his last song of the night, the notes lasting long and slow. His fingers bent down on the keys. His breathing as long as his notes. The musician tilted his head up, noticing Pandora for the first time tonight. They circled each other. Pandora, standing in the back of the room, made her way to the middle. Every step she took the musician followed. His music became softer and seductive. He had found his muse. He was inspired. Both of them took their time to meet in the middle. Neither one of them wanted to show just how much they wanted the other. They tried to hide their animalist hunger. This all failed when the musician put one of his hands on the waist of his muse. His muse put a hand to his jaw. The jazz player gulped. The resistants of these two magnets were ever hard to pull apart. The muse traced her finger down the side of the saxophone player's lips. The musician was struggling to gain control. The next breath he took into his instrument was terminated. His breathing was uneven. His muse was out to destroy him.

"Thomas," the muse whispered. The musician dropped his instrument. He let his lips slide off the mouth of his saxophone. His lips found another mouth, this one tasted sweeter. The two lovers reconciled their love. They memorized the curves of their bodies meeting one another. Lips, backs, waists, faces, jaw lines. It was all there for each other to be remembered and stored for days when they are gray and old and have forgotten what it was like not to be wrinkly.

"My love?" Thomas muses. He had a slight West African French accent. He didn't speak English very well but that didn't matter to his muse. His muse understood. He took her in his arm. Together they departed the main floor of the club and headed to the back rooms. This was where Thomas spent his nights. He led his lady to his room. He sat her down on a chair. He took apart his saxophone, cleaning all the saliva build up with a rag. Taking the saxophone apart, he threw away the reed. He closed the case, putting it in a corner of the room. He went over to his muse stroking her blond hair. He kissed her for head. "How is your night?" Thomas asked.

"The train ride was interesting . . ." Pandora said. She rested her back against the side of the couch putting her legs on Thomas. She dropped her bag on the floor. She moved a strain of hair away from her face. "How was the club?"

"People were dancing, singing, humming, loving, meeting, connecting- being human," Thomas replied. "The train ride?"

"I met this woman . . . she's leading this movement for birth control . . ." Pandora picked her bag up. "Anyways, are you excited for your appointment with Effy?" She opened the clasps of the bag. She pulled out the pamphlet Naomi had given her. She handed it to Thomas. "The woman was telling me that she was going to make a speech today. She invited me to the rally."

Thomas flipped through _Family Limitation_. "Is this so we cannot have children?"

Pandora watched as Thomas attempted to read the English words. "Well, if we didn't want to. It's so that I can make love with you and not have to worry about having children because of it."

Thomas thought for a minute. "Isn't that what making love is about? It is the gift of children. What would be doing if we weren't having children?"

Pandora was very confused. "What are you saying Thomas. Don't you want me to make love with you? We're not ready for children though, that's what this is about. I can make love and not have children."

"Thomas?" Pandora said, panicked. She took the two pieces of pamphlet and put them in her bag.

Thomas rose up from the couch. Pandora fell to the floor. "My mother warned me about woman like you." He pointed his finger down at Pandora, "I think it's best if you leave now." Thomas picked his woman up off the ground. He threw her out the door, slamming the door back into its frame. He turned off the lights and slumped into his chair. He closed his eyes, and slammed his head against the wall in frustration, madness, betrayal, and rage. He did this until he blacked out.

Thomas woke up with a throbbing headache. Thomas knew was that he didn't get enough sleep, and that the woman he loved, is racist. Thomas let that slump into his chest. He would just have to move on. Thomas did not have the time to dwell on this. Thomas checked his watch. Pandora had given him this watch. It was five am. Thomas got up from the couch and felt sick. A head rush, that's what it's called. Thomas knelt down putting his head into his hands. He stayed like that for five minutes, managing the pain. He slowly stood up, feeling the shift of gravity jumbling randomly in the corners of his head. He opened his door, and walked out of the room. He walked quick, hoping that his feet wouldn't have to change too much with the balanced in his head. Thomas walked a couple blocks down to his apartment. The entrance was a little red door, covered in graffiti, between a corner store and a nail salon. Thomas needed to go to the corner store, though, to get some ice to put on his forehead.

Thomas went into the store, he put down five pence, and retrieved the ice from the icebox. He placed the ice on his head. He felt around for his keys. He walked out of the store and found the red graffitied door. He slid the key into the door and turned the lock. Once that door was open. He locked it from behind. He walked up two flights of stairs, taking the third door. With his other key, He unlocked the door. He opened this door, and walked in.

Thomas shared this flat with a man named James Fitch. Where James Fitch was at this moment, Thomas didn't know. Instead of James sitting at the kitchen table, there was a blond girl eating toast. Short hair though, Thomas noticed, a bit shorter than the other flapper girls.

The blond woman noticed the man staring at her in question. "Hello, I'll just be leaving." The woman took the toast in her mouth, grabbed her bag, and put her plate in the sink. She smiled at Thomas as she left.

"Bye," Thomas said, a bit confused. He heard the door close behind him. He went back and locked the door. Thomas went over to his room, fell onto his bed, and just layed there, the ice bag making home to his face. He yawned, He never had enough sleep. Usually Thomas went to work at five thirty, worked until five, slept to ten, and went to work at the Jazz club until three. Usually the Jazz club would quietly open at nine, it would be slamming at twelve, and by one people were usually out of there. Thomas always got off early on those nights. He almost never had to say to three am. Thomas' boss understood. He didn't want to waste money on electricity so, out all of them went. Like last night, Pandora would meet Thomas at his jazz club, they would fall asleep in each other's arms at the club or Thomas' place. Pandora would leave early in the morning, with a note stuck to her side of the bed. Thomas kept those notes. He put them in an envelope inside his pillow. Thomas grabbed his pillow and felt around for the envelope.

_Thomas, I love you, Pandora_

Thomas put his notes in chronological order. This is so he could see the growth of his relationship with Pandora.

_I love you_

_ I love you_

_ Thomas+Pandora_

_ I'm sorry, your right_

_ There's a saying old, says that love is blind_

Thomas read the last note. He folded and tucked the note into his pocket. He put the rest into the envelope and then back under his pillow. Thomas rose from his bed. He needed to get himself together. He put on a new shirt. Pandora had pressed this particular shirt. It was nice and crisp at the edges. Thomas looked at himself in the mirror. He put on his suspenders and shined his shoes. He walked out of his room and went into his flatmates'. Thomas taped on James' door lightly.

The door opened slightly. James' face appeared with a finger to his lips. James motioned for Thomas to come in. The door opened slightly wider. Inside James' room there was a girl tucked in the corner, red hair peeking out under the covers. Thomas recognized this hair color to be Emily, James' sister. James mimed for Thomas to sit on his bed. Thomas sat down, the mattress squeaking underneath him. James flicked a lamp on, dim enough so that his sister won't wake up. The light emitted a warm glow to the surroundings. The lap sat on a woman's dressing table. Thomas never understood why James had that particular table, but James loved it to death. He had even named the dressing table Glinda for some odd reason.

James sat on his dressing table stool, facing not the mirror, but Thomas. James racked Thomas' face, noticing the black and blue bruise on the forehead. James traced the bruise down his friend's face. He gave an apologetic smile. James turned around, opened one of the draws of his dressing table, and got out a sewing box. James waved Thomas out of the room. The two of them quietly walked into the kitchen. Thomas sat down as James opened the box.

"Looks like you had a rough night," James said. He opened a small compact _thing_. Thomas did not know the words to describe the _thing_ that James had in his hand. James though, looked like he knew what he was doing after all, he had another _thing_ opened. Thomas watched as James took a small paintbruch-like-_thing_ and dabbed into the two compact _things_.

"You could said that," Thomas replied, still watching James with the brush.

James had two compact foundations in his hands that he was mixing, one was much, much, too dark for Thomas' skin tone and the other was James' color. James was beside himself with the abuse he is putting his Elizabeth Arden makeup. He knew it was worth it though. James was a good mate to Thomas. After James was done mixing his colors together, he had Thomas lift his head up. Thomas obliged and James began to dust his brush onto his friend's face. The foundation though, was not thick enough to cover the bruise. James sighed. He dug into his sewing box for cream and Vaseline. He put a dab of cream on his finger and put it onto Thomas' forehead. James did the same with the Vaseline. He mixed the two together, trying to get a thin layer on. Once this was done James then continued swirling his brush onto Thomas' face. This time the powder was on thicker, hiding the mark a bit better. When James was done, he smiled at his friend.

"You owe me a brush I hope you know," James joked. He went over to the skin, dropping the now, ruined brush. James went over to the stove, putting the kettle on. "So tell me about the misses, she hurt you?"

"Nah," Thomas said, "just my heart." He put his hand on the left side of his chest, hugging it.

"How did that happen?" James reached for two cups which were on a shelf above. He found Thomas' favorite tea, putting a bag in his cup.

"She doesn't believe in making love," Thomas stated.

James turned around, a bit confused. "How do you mean?"

Thomas sighed. "She brought a pamphlet with her when she came to visit me last night. It was all about how we could have sex and not worry about children."

James was ever more confused, "You mean like how to have ora- "

"No not like that!" Thomas interrupted. "Like, there are these things she can do to her body that can prevent that."

"You mean like douching?"

"Yes! Like that!"

"So what your saying is that you don't want her to douche because making love is to make children and douching defeats the point."

"Yes!" Thomas agreed.

James scratched his head. "And this breaks your heart because . . ."

"Woman like her, who don't want to have children, are murderers. Since Pandora is white and she is with someone who is not white, it means that she is an eugenicist."

James laughed, shaking his head.

"What," Thomas asked, "you don't believe me?"

"Don't you think this is a bit science fiction for you? Pandora dating you just so she could cut off your supply of seeds so you cannot reproduce so there will be no niggers? A bit ridiculous if you ask me." James said.

"What else could it be?" Thomas inquired. "Why else would she suggest that idea?"

"I don't know Thomas, maybe she's just not ready to have a child yet, have you thought about that? Both of you are terribly poor. She's just looking at your economic situation and making the executive decision that she wants to prove her love, but not with the consequence or burden of children."

Thomas looked at the ground and thought. "How can you know that James? I've never seen you with a woman before."

James tried not to meet Thomas' gaze. "Well, you know, my sister Katie works at a brothel."

"James, your right, I guess Pandora just doesn't want kids for us yet," Thomas said.

The kettle on the stove began to make sound. James lifted the kettle, pouring it into the two cups. James dropped earl grey tea into his cup. He brought the two cups to the table.

"Cheers," James said. He knocked mugs with his friend.

"So, what's going on with you?" Thomas asked. "Where are your lady friends?"

"Well, just last week I went out with someone . . . I think her name was Madame Morrible," James amused.

"Well, that sounds horrible," Thomas said. He took a quick sip of his tea. He checked the time on his watch. "I best get going James, I don't want to make the boss get mad. Thanks for the tea." Thomas left his tea on the table, knowing very well that James will get domesticated and will reheat it later in the evening. Thomas got his jacket and walked out the door.

Outside, the daylight was brighter than before. The streets were a bit thicker with people. Thomas found the gaps between people making sure to use them to get ahead of the daily traffic. Several blocks down he found the bakery that he worked at. It was a pink and purple shop selling everything from sugary sweets like taffy to sandwiches.

Since today was a Monday, Thomas was on cookie-making duty. Monday's were the sweet days since they could last throughout the week and not get spoiled. Other employers came several hours before to make daily bread. There were even specialized workers that made things like cake. Thomas had worked at Eureka for over a year and had never tasted one of the cakes that they made. Of course, all this baking and cooking reminded him of Pandora. He tried not to dwell too much on that. He would apologize to her after his shift. They always fought and made up; that's what made them Thomas and Pandora.

"Thomas," his boss greeted, "you're on cookie duty."

"Yes sir," Thomas replied. He found his apron, which was pink, purple, and white stripes. He made his way to the kitchen, on the 'sweets' side.

"We're making oatmeal raisin and cinnamon today, other people are doing chocolate chip like usual. You're just doing oatmeal raisin and cinnamon," his boss instructed.

"How many?"Thomas inquired.

Thomas boss whipped his nose. "You say you have something at ten and you need to leave a half hour early? Just make seventy-five then, not many people like raisins. I for one hate raisins."

For the next several hours Thomas worked to make these cookies that his boss didn't even like. He found the raisins and the oatmeal and the cinnamon and everything else. He put it in one big stirring pot and mixed. He preheated his oven and began to craft balls of cookie onto a large tray. By the time it became nine thirty, Thomas scrambled to put the cookies in the oven. He had one of his mates oversee the baking. Thomas threw off his pink, purple, and white striped apron and left for the day.

He found the train station and took it to upper Manhattan. He usually took this train at night to visit Pandora. Surprisingly it looked very different at daylight. For example, Thomas was very happy that he could see the trees outside. At night it had always felt a bit enclosed, as if one were to travel into a black hole without knowing. This time, though, Thomas felt like he was racing into the sun.

Thomas got off the train when he knew he had reached his approximate destination. His feet took him to the Stoneham building. A guard outside was there to greet him.

"How can I help you?" the guard asked

"I am here to see Effy Stoneham," Thomas said.

"Anything else?" The guard queered.

Thomas smiled. To enter the Stoneham building there was a pass code. "My aunt's left foot," Thomas whispered.

"Let me help you then." The guard escorted Thomas through the glass doors and towards the elevator. "Effy Stoneham is on the 13th floor, there is a woman named Cassie at the front desk there if you need any more assistance."

Inside the elevator the elevator boy pressed the floor number. The gates closed. Thomas and the boy rode the floors upwards. The elevator stopped with a ding following its arrival. The elevator boy opened the door waving his hand over for Thomas to step out.

There was a desk three yards away from the elevator. A woman with golden locks stood by the desk, going over papers. Thomas walked over to the woman.

"Are you Cassie?" Thomas asked the woman.

"Yes, how can I help you sir?" The woman said.

"I have an appointment with Effy Stoneham, I know she's on floor thirteen but I'm not sure the room number."

Cassie put the piece of paper she had aside and flipped open her appointment book. "Ten O'clock with Stoneham, right? What did you say your name was?"

"Thomas Tomone, sorry I did not say that earlier," Thomas stuttered out.

"No, it's quite alright, I was just making sure you knew your name since this is an exclusive club. Effy's room is over there . . ." Cassie pointed in the direction. "She is the very last door. Also, it has her name on it if you get lost."

"Thank you."

Cassie smiled, it had been a while since anyone had said that to her. "Have a lovely day."

Thomas walked to the direction that Cassie had pointed out. He checked his watch when he reached the door. He was two minutes late. He knocked on the door.

The knob turned, opening to a rather lavish room, decorated with rugs and pillows. There was a desk in the center of the room. Candles illuminated the atmosphere.

"Thomas, or do you prefer something else?" The woman said. She beckoned him inside.

"Thomas, is quite alright. You are Miss or Mrs. Stoneham?" Thomas asked. His eyes were in awe with everything around him. All his senses were in a frenzy of this mysterious place.

"Effy is preferable. Sit down." The woman pulled out a chair for Thomas. He sat down. Effy sat down on the chair opposite him. Between them was wooden table. Thomas noticed that his hand had suddenly been grasped by the woman.

"You are a baker," Effy amused. She could smell the sweetness of cooking off of Thomas. His hands had a bit of flower on them still. "And something else . . . maybe this is a hobby?" Thomas' hands were incredibly smooth. The tips of his nails were cut short and they were smooth. She noticed though, his fingers were crooked on one hand and not the other. "Are you some sort of violinist or Jazz player." Effy looked up at his face. His forehead had a bit of makeup on it for some odd reason. He was covering something. Effy noticed that Thomas had deep welts under his eyes. His mouth was rather large and his lips seemed pursed. "Are you a saxophone player?" This could account for his large lips and crooked fingers. "And you play in a night club." This could also explain the bags under his eyes. Effy knew she was right. She always was.

"Yes to all of it. I bake down at Harlem at a place called Eureka. I'm also a Jazz player at a club. You won't tell anyone right? I could get arrested," Thomas said.

"Thomas, I work at a brothel, you think I go about telling the police about that?" Effy laughed.

"You're a very smart lady."

"That's what you pay me for. Anyways, aren't you here for a Crystal Reading? Let me pull that out for you, okay?" Effy let go of Thomas' hands. She opened one of her draws to pull out her crystal ball. She put it on the table, sliding a cushion underneath so the ball wouldn't roll away.

"So just to let you know I'm going to turn off the main light here. The candles will still be on, but the point is, this will help you clear your mind. Is that alright?" Effy said. She went to the light switch and turned it off. "Now Thomas, for this to work I want you to gaze into the ball and focus your thoughts aside. If you have trouble doing that I'm right here and I can help you." Effy went back to her chair. Before this session Effy had taken an interesting colored pill, Tony had given it to her in addition to her other pills, but today, Effy was feeling a bit curious. She now felt the effects of the pill. Gravity pulled her this way and that. It was a lurid feeling. Nothing that she wasn't used to though.

"Your hands please?" Effy held her hands out to Thomas. Thomas took Effy's hands. He eyes were certainly fixated on the crystal ball. This was a good sign for Effy.

Effy's blood began to rush to her throat. Her heart began pounding. The effects of the pill were in full force now; it would only be a matter of seconds before the hallucinations began setting in. A smile crept to Effy's face. This was the best part of her job.

"Do you see that?" Effy asked. Her speaking became a bit slurred and airy. She was no longer looking at the crystal ball but the shadows from the candles behind Thomas.

"Yes, you mean the blue flecks?" Thomas said. He pushed his face further to the ball. Never had he seen anything as magnificent.

"Don't get to close Thomas, you might scare them away. Those flecks, what do you think they represent?" Effy closed her eyes now. There was a certain rhythm to her hallucinations. What was that? A sound, floating through the air. It caught Effy's ear and held on. Several more notes cascaded through the room.

"Those blue flecks represent the scar on your forehead that you have," Effy stated. She became disconnected with her reality. She saw now, only the top of Thomas' head and the crystal ball. There seemed to be a shadowy figure at the end of the room. It crept over the sides of the room.

"You must tell me Thomas, how you got the scar, this is the only way we can descend farther to another plain." The shadowy figure put its hand on Effy's shoulder. It shook her. Effy's hand slipped out of Thomas'. She began to shake. The chair under her wobbled.

"I felt horrible on the inside so I needed to feel bad on the outside to distract from the internal pain," Thomas explained. Now that he said this aloud, he felt awful.

The shadowy creature began to chant words in sync to the music that was playing in Effy's ear. "Why did you feel horrible?"

Thomas signed. He glanced up from the crystal ball. He noticed that Effy was shaking ever so slightly. Her fingers twitched. "My girlfriend and I got into a fight last night, it was a bad one." Thomas returned his eyes back to the ball.

"Have you made up to her?" Effy wondered. The shadowy figure crept ever closer to her ear. Louder and louder the music played. The word were jumbled up, disenchanted, cut off, and lost. The figure began to pull itself inside Effy's ear. Effy's eyes widened.

"You need to go find her, apologize to her, and make it up. Nothing matters more in this world than love," Effy spoke. She put her hand to her ear, "you need to leave!" Effy shrieked. The shadow had gotten all of itself in her ear; it began bouncing around inside her. Effy could feel it. The shadow had taken possession of her.

"aouwe ladfoue ajk weou slxm," Effy chanted. "Go!" Were her last words to the very frightened Thomas.

Thomas rose from his seat. He ran out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Effy fell backwards. Her last though before she blacked out were, _I need to stop trusting Tony._


End file.
